


by the light of the moon

by bayloriffic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:24:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayloriffic/pseuds/bayloriffic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma and Regina stumble into some sex pollen while exploring Neverland.</p><p>
  <em>“What are you doing?” Regina demands, but she's staring at Emma's mouth and her chest is actually heaving, like some kind of romance novel cliché, her skin flushed dark in the bright light of the moon. She puts her hands on Emma’s shoulders like she’s going to push her away, but she curls her fingers around Emma’s arms instead, clutching her instead of shoving her away. “Miss Swan?”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	by the light of the moon

Neverland is confusing and strange, a constantly shifting wilderness that keeps them all off-balance. The island runs on imagination, just like Gold told them, the landscape and moods and weather changing seemingly at random. 

But it’s not random, Emma knows -- has known -- ever since the storm that first night, the one that was fueled by their rage. So they all try to remain calm, stay neutral, no major shifts or dramatic emotions, nothing that might turn everything off-kilter and upside down.

But Neverland is also full of traps, and no matter how much they try to keep themselves under control, there’s always something just around the next corner, just waiting to turn everything to hell.

Even with Pan’s map, they still haven’t quite found their bearings, the shapes on the parchment too broad to show them the nuances of the island. So they’re trying to learn the lay of the land, trying to understand it as best they can each night, going off in pairs to explore the dark jungle in the hopes that they can add a little more detail to the map.

Tonight, only their second full night in Neverland, Emma and Regina are on the job, the two of them heading out into the darkness while the others remain behind at camp, trying to get some sleep. The night is clear, a full moon in the cloudless sky, bright enough that they don’t even need to bring a lantern. 

At first everything is fine, normal even. Emma and Regina walk through the trees, Emma just a couple of steps behind Regina. The island seems quiet, serene, but they know better, know that Pan and his followers could be anywhere. Emma has a sword tucked into her belt, one hand held steady on the hilt, and Regina keeps clenching and unclinching her fists, stray wisps of violet smoke crackling between her fingertips, both of them ready for anything.

They take a path that seems, despite the weirdness of Neverland, somehow familiar. The trees seem a little denser, maybe, but other than that, Emma’s pretty sure they’ve been through this part of the island before. Which is maybe why she doesn’t notice the dust at first, a sparse smattering of what looks like iridescent powder on her arms. It’s on Regina too, she notices, sticking to her dark blue coat, glittering on the back of her hands. 

“Hey,” Emma calls to her. Regina turns but doesn’t stop, glancing back at Emma and ducking under the frond of a giant fern.

“What’s wrong?” She sounds tired, and Emma can see dark circles under her eyes. 

Emma holds up her hand, showing Regina the dust. It sparkles in the moonlight, turning from purple to blue to green. “What is this stuff?” It feels kind of odd against her skin, like everywhere it’s touching her, she’s suddenly just a little warmer. 

“I wouldn’t know, Miss Swan,” Regina says with a shrug, before turning back around. She still hasn’t stopped, just keeps pushing forward through the trees, determined as always on these recon missions. “Did you touch something you shouldn’t have?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Did you?” she retorts, nodding at the sparkling dust on Regina’s knuckles. The warmth is getting warmer, spreading from the substance on her arm up through her body, the heat already at her shoulder and starting down her chest. 

Regina glances down at her hands and stops. “Where did this come from?” she demands, like this is somehow Emma’s fault. Ugh, of course. Because apparently _everything_ is Emma’s fault, even more so now that they’re stuck on this damn island. 

“I think it might be from a plant,” Emma says. The heat’s down to her stomach now, a hot knot of tension settling deep in her belly. 

“Hmmm,” Regina says, and rubs the substance between her fingers, the pad of her thumb stroking across her fingertips. The rasp of skin against skin sounds unnaturally loud, and Emma swallows hard.

“What do you think it is?” Emma asks. She feels sort of flushed and breathless, her voice coming out low and rough, and she finds herself closing the distance between her and Regina. Leaves and twigs crunch under her feet, loud in the silence of the jungle.

“I have no idea,” Regina says, but she sounds fascinated as she takes a step towards Emma, getting right into her personal space. 

Emma watches while she raises one hand, palm down, over Emma’s forearm, a bright purple glow radiating from her fingertips as she moves her hand slowly through the the air only a couple of inches away from Emma’s skin. The magic feels even more intense than she expected, like it's everywhere, all over her body, intimate and electric.

“Well?” Emma whispers. Her breath has gone shallow and ragged and she can’t seem to stop staring at Regina’s mouth. There’s a scar on her upper lip, and Emma’s overtaken with an insane urge to taste it, to run her tongue along Regina’s lip, see if that thin mark tastes any different from the skin around it.

Regina shrugs, passing her hand over her arm a couple more times, her head cocked slightly to the side. “Well, it’s not dark magic,” she finally says, pulling her hand away and extinguishing the little purple cloud of smoke before brushing her hand against her trousers, leaving a thin layer of shimmering dust on the black fabric just below her hip. “I think it might be fairy, possibly pixie.”

“What does that mean?” Emma's voice is shaky, and she realizes she doesn’t actually care about the answer, doesn't care what the dust is. It doesn't seem to matter anymore, nothing does, except for the feeling that moving throughout her body. All she wants is to touch Regina, somehow sure that if she could, this terrible wanting inside of her would stop. 

Regina rolls her eyes, but she’s starting rubbing her fingers together again, and Emma notices how wide her pupils have gotten, her eyes overly bright. “It means it’s some kind of white magic, Miss Swan.”

“So it’s okay?” Emma asks. She and Regina are standing very close to each other, close enough that Emma can feel the heat radiating off her body. “We’re okay?”

Regina shrugs again, running her tongue along her lower lip, her eyes flickering down to Emma’s mouth. “Even light magic can be dangerous,” she murmurs, her voice low and throaty. 

Emma’s body is thrumming, her heart hammering in her chest, the tension in her belly almost unbearable as Regina blinks and then steps away, turning around again as she starts walking again. It takes a couple of seconds before Emma follows her, trying to get her body to stop doing whatever it's doing, trying to concentrate on something other than Regina, on how much she wants to touch her.

The moon shines brightly overhead, and in front of her Regina starts pulling off her jacket, and Emma can’t seem to stop looking at the smooth, hard lines of her arms, her skin looking preternaturally bright in the darkness. 

It’s a cool night, but her body feels like it’s on fire, the warmth from her chest starting to spread throughout her body, settling deep and low in her belly, getting hotter and more intense the longer she looks at Regina, at the iridescent glow of her skin in the moonlight. 

Regina stops again, turning around where she is, and even from a couple of steps away, Emma can see how dilated her pupils are, wide and black in the darkness. Her chest is heaving, the top couple of buttons of her shirt undone, revealing a lacy scrap of black fabric underneath and, Jesus Christ, Emma really needs to touch her, needs to feel Regina’s skin against hers. Her head is buzzing and the feeling keeps building insider her, coursing through her veins.

It's the dust, she realizes, with the little bit of her brain that actually still seems to be working. Whatever that dust was, it's making her feel like this, making her _want_ like this. 

"I think something's wrong," she says, and Regina's eyes get wide. She's still pulling at her clothes, undoing another one of the buttons on the shirt, revealing another couple of inches of smooth tan skin. The movements seem almost unconscious, like she doesn't even realize she's doing it.

Emma’s suddenly incredibly conscious of her own clothes, of the way they brush and rub against her skin, everything feeling too much, too rough and too tight. It’s overwhelming, this strange tension that’s intensifying inside her, hot and buzzing. "I think it's the dust," she says, trying to brush it off of her even as she keeps moving towards Regina. "Do you feel it?"

Regina swallows hard, but she shakes her head. "No," she lies, but she's wiping desperately at the dust or the pollen or whatever it is, trying to get it off of her. But then she glances up at Emma and her breath catches as her movements change slightly, so that's she's not brushing, but kind of...stroking.

She's practically glowing in the darkness and her skin looks so bright and so cool, and Emma thinks that maybe if she could just touch her, skin to skin, it would be enough, enough to cool her down, calm the burn that’s everywhere now. 

Nothing is making any sense and her thoughts are swimming and she just wants...she _needs_ to touch her, to see if Regina is as cool as she looks, and Emma doesn’t even think about it as she closes the distance between them, her fingers wrapped around Regina’s arm, grasping at her desperately, more roughly than she means to, her fingertips digging into Regina’s skin. When they touch it’s like a shock, an electric current passing between them, their breathing loud and ragged in the silence. 

“What are you doing?” Regina demands, but she's staring at Emma's mouth and her chest is actually heaving, like some kind of romance novel cliché, her skin flushed dark in the bright light of the moon. She puts her hands on Emma’s shoulders like she’s going to push her away, but she curls her fingers around Emma’s arms instead, clutching her instead of shoving her away. “Miss Swan?”

Emma’s not sure who kisses who first, but suddenly their mouths are crushed together, Regina licking along Emma’s lower lip, gasping into her mouth, her hands pushing up under the hem of Emma’s tanktop, fingernails scratching the sensitive skin below Emma’s ribs. 

This whole situation is insane, she knows, but it’s like nothing matters except Regina, whose hand is ghosting up her ribs, stroking her breast and then teasing at her nipple, making Emma moan loudly. When she does, Regina gasps, and Emma slides her hand under the waistband of her pants, cupping her hand against where Regina’s so hot and so wet. God, she feels _amazing_ , and when she cants her hips forward to give Emma better access, Emma smiles against her mouth. 

“Fuck,” Regina gasps, jerking her hips against Emma’s hand, grinding herself against the heel of Emma’s palm. 

Emma makes a quiet, desperate noise in the back of her throat as she scrabbles at the thin scrap of lace keeping her from really feeling Regina against her. God, she's almost as far gone as Regina is, and Regina's barely even touched her, but just, the way Regina feels -- so slick and wonderfully hot -- it makes Emma feel like she's going to explode. When she finally slides one finger inside of her, Regina moans, breaking away from the kiss to throw her head back, her throat ghostly pale in the moonlight. 

Everything is happening too fast and too intense, but it's like they can't stop, can't control themselves at all, they just keep touching each other, desperate and grasping, the need for it all-consuming.

They stumble backwards a few steps as Emma starts stroking Regina where she’s so wet, Emma’s fingers slick and hot as she glides the pad of her thumb along Regina’s clit, circling it lightly before coming back to it, stroking until Regina’s thighs start to shake. When Emma bits lightly on Regina’s neck, right where her throat meets her shoulder, Regina cries out, her body trembling, muscles clenching around Emma’s fingers.

Watching Regina come undone makes Emma all the more desperate and she just starts rocking her hips harder, curling her fingers in this way that makes Regina cry out and makes her own knuckles scrape against the seam of her jeans, the friction exactly what she needs. Regina fists a hand in her hair and drags Emma’s mouth back towards hers, and when Regina strokes her tongue into her mouth, Emma comes so hard she almost sobs, grinding herself desperately against Regina’s hips and her own hand. 

And it should be enough, but it’s not, and Regina’s started to bite lightly at her lower lip, and they’re both just wearing too many clothes. She rips Regina’s shirt trying to get it off her, the black silk tearing easily, and Regina pulls back just enough to glare at her, but it’s like Emma’s body is out of her control, and she just pushes the fabric roughly down Regina’s arms.

“Sorry,” she mutters, but she’s not, not really, and she can’t imagine Regina’s all that upset, not while she’s still grinding her hips against Emma’s hand and yanking Emma’s tanktop over her head. 

The island air is cool against her bare chest, but it’s still not enough, and Regina must feel the same because she’s suddenly pushing Emma down, making it so that they’re both on the ground, rocks and twigs digging between Emma’s shoulder blades as Regina lays on top of her. 

“What -- ” she starts, but then Regina’s moving down her body, dragging the flat of her tongue along Emma’s throat and Emma can’t seem to form words anymore. Regina makes her way down to her collarbone before settling on her right breast, licking and sucking frantically until Emma thinks she might go insane. 

Emma tangles her fingers in Regina’s hair, pushing her lower, urging her down to where Emma needs her, to where she’s desperate for Regina to touch her, to where she _aches_. She swears she can feel Regina smirk against her body as she moves down, pushing at Emma’s jeans until she wriggles free of them. 

When Regina’s tongue touches her, Emma moans so loud she’s surprised she doesn’t wake up the entire island. But she doesn’t care, just tightens her hand in Regina’s hair, holding her between her thighs, moaning when Regina slides her free hand down to start touching herself as she kneels on the jungle floor. 

Regina’s driving her crazy, her tongue swirling and darting over her clit while she touches herself and with her other hand slips one, two, three fingers inside Emma, until she shaking and moaning and desperate, fucking herself on Regina’s hand, grinding her hips against Regina’s mouth. 

Emma comes so hard she’s shaking, but it’s not enough, none of the tension goes away, and she bucks her hips against Regina mouth, desperate and aching for more. When Regina pulls away, Emma makes a noise of protest deep in her throat, a pathetic whimpering noise that should be embarrassing, but right now she doesn’t care, just needs Regina to keep touching her. 

Regina’s next to her again in a heartbeat, sliding up Emma’s body until they’re face to face again, Regina’s breath coming fast and hot against Emma’s cheek. 

They’re moving together desperately, both of them breathless and gasping, and Emma slips one hand between them at almost the same time Regina does, their fingers twining together, slick and hot and grasping. 

When Regina kisses her, Emma can taste herself on Regina’s tongue, and they’re still holding hands, both of them rocking their hips against each other. Emma opens her eyes and Regina’s watching her, her dark eyes bright, pupils blown wide, and Emma can’t hold off any longer, her body starting to tremble and shake just a second before Regina’s, the two of them watching each other as they come together in the dark. 

This time, Emma feels some actual release, the tension that’s been driving her crazy starting to fade away and her heart starts to slow down to something like its normal rhythm. It must be the same for Regina, because she just collapses against her, her breathing ragged but not the desperate gasping it was just a couple of minutes ago.

The relief Emma feels doesn’t last very long; after just a couple of seconds she realizes where she is and what she’s doing and a who she’s with and oh god, oh god, what the hell is she doing? Her body tenses again, this time in a completely non-pleasant way, and Regina must come to her senses right around the same time because then she’s pushing away from Emma, scrabbling at the jungle floor for purchase. 

They’re both still flushed and shaky and breathless as they get dressed, both of them staring at the ground, at the trees, at the moon overhead. Anywhere but at each other. Emma concentrates on not looking at Regina as she gets dressed, pulling her tanktop over her head and smoothing her hair behind her ears. Her hand trembles when she buttons her jeans, and she can still taste Regina on her lips.

They take the long way back to camp, careful not to walk the same way, trying to avoid whatever the hell it was that made them...do what they did. The dust that was all over them before seems to be gone now, and they keep carefully not looking at each other as they make their way through the dark jungle. 

It’s still dark when they finally get back to camp, but David’s awake, sitting next to a small fire. 

“Hey,” he says when he sees them, giving Emma a small smile and then cutting his eyes over at Regina. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” Regina says sharply, before Emma even has a chance to open her mouth. “Why are you awake?”

David blinks. “I couldn’t sleep.” He looks at them both for a couple of seconds before focusing on Emma. “You sure everything’s okay?”

This time, Regina ignores him, just brushes past him before she ducks into her lean-to, the one not to far from Emma’s own little pallet. She doesn’t even glance back at Emma. Her jacket’s rucked up a little, exposing a patch of smooth tan skin at the small of her back. Emma can’t seem to look away. 

“Emma?” David sounds concerned and he takes a step towards her, his hand raised like he’s going to put it on her shoulder. Emma jerks away, stumbling a little over her own feet. 

“I’m fine,” she tells him, willing it to be true, trying to think of something other than Regina, of the way she looked above her, all swollen red lips and smooth tan skin. She takes another step back, away from him. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He sounds a little confused, and he’s watching her closely, this kind of paternal concern that puts her on edge. "Well, get some sleep, okay?"

Emma swallows hard, looking down at her feet. “Okay,” Emma agrees, moving away in the direction of her own makeshift pallet. She can still feel Regina’s skin against hers, hot and sweat-slick, and she keeps her eyes trained on the ground, trying to ignore the flush creeping up her cheeks.

She doesn't look up until she's next to Regina's tent, and as she does, Regina's there, watching her. Her hair is still a little mussed, and her cheeks flushed and her lips parted, and Emma can’t seem to look away, heat pooling low in her belly, and it’s going to be a really long night. 


End file.
